


Sabotage!

by Kida_Bridger



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Crack, M/M, Pre-Earth Transformers, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-02-04
Packaged: 2017-11-28 05:45:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/670961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kida_Bridger/pseuds/Kida_Bridger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All's fair in love and war, so when the normal methods of rousting infiltrators fail, a new method is concocted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sabotage!

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Sabotage!  
> 'Verse: G1 Pre-War  
> Rating: Pg:13  
> Characters/Pairings: Jazz/Prowl, Sideswipe, mentions of Ironhide and several recruits.  
> Warnings: Crack with a dash of Slash  
> Disclaimer: Transformers belongs to its respective owners, and no money was made from this story.
> 
> Notes: I was watching Disney's Valiant and there's a scene where one of the french resistance mice goes crazy when the word sabotage was spoken. I could totally see Jazz in that role, and so this story was born. This has been revised from its original version. Im not sure how happy i am with it yet as i seem to be having trouble writing the more intimate parts. Hope you guys like it though.

Jazz sat staring at Prowl in stunned disbelief. When he had made the wager with Sideswipe, he had fully expected to have to use some underhanded trick to get his friend to go along with it. To have Prowl read over the mission plan, read the terms of the bet, and then calmly inform Jazz that he would assist him, was just plain shocking. Prowl continued to speak, refining the mission details, oblivious to Jazz staring at him as if he had sprouted a second set of doorwings and turned into a turbo-fly. With a shake of his helm, Jazz quickly pulled himself together.

“Are you sure you can do this? I mean, its a bit out of you-” Jazz paused as a set of vibrant blue optics focused on him.

“I would not have agreed to do so if I thought I was incapable.” Prowls doorwings tilted disdainfully.

“Yeah but-” Jazz floundered for a way to say it so that it would not come out as an insult. “This type of thing isn't really your forte, if you know what I mean.”

Prowl leaned over his desk, his optics catching and holding Jazz's attention. “While it is annoying that you do not have more confidence in my abilities, if it will help, I will make a side wager with you.”

The very prospect of Prowl offering to make a bet with him floored him more then the acceptance of the first one had. Jazz spluttered for a moment before managing to reclaim his cool and relaxed posture, he leaned forward slightly, bringing himself closer to Prowl.

“What type of side wager?”

Prowls optics flashed and a smirk settled over his faceplates, causing Jazz's engine to hitch slightly.

“When I pull this off, and we discover the traitor, I get anything I want from you. Any one thing.”

Jazz rose to the challenge instantly. If he won this little bet of theirs, he could ask anything of Prowl and have it granted. Oh, the ideas. He could have Prowl join him on a mission, accompany him to a party, or Jazz could request something more personal. Like being allowed to touch those tempting doorwings, or maybe even a kiss. The last couple of ideas had his frame heating up slightly.

“I accept, and if you don't come across convincingly enough, I’m allowed to claim any one thing from you instead.”

“Deal.” Prowl stood and offered his hand to Jazz. He clasped the tacticians hand and smiled.

“This is going to be fun.”

-^^^^VVVV^^^^-

Prowl stood in the center of the training room. Most of the items that usually littered the room had been put away or shoved against a wall to make room for the introductory meeting scheduled for the new recruits. Ironhide stood just inside the double reinforced doors, cleaning one of his blasters. Sideswipe leaned against a wall at the back of the room, watching the other mechs intently. In front of Prowl stood twenty new recruits, all shifting and looking like the inexperienced bots they were. At Prowls right elbow stood Jazz, at a relaxed attention, with his hands clasped behind his back and his feet slightly apart. If he hadn't know it was a part of their plan, He might have been worried about his friends stillness. Jazz didn't do stillness.

As he waited for the mechs to settle down, he thought about his role in the upcoming “mission”. Jazz's ideas on what his behavior should be were careful to include Prowls own strict rules on public displays. He believed that mechs should be calm and collected, not rambunctious and full of sparkling energy. But there was something his friend had yet to learn about him. While it was rare for him to participate in a wager or even make one, when he did, it was with the intention of winning. He kept his smirk from his faceplates. He had every intention of winning and claiming his prize from Jazz. And if that included varying from their plan, he would definitely do so.

He cleared his vocalizer, gaining the new recruits attention instantly.

“I am Prowl, Second in Command and Head Tactician. This is Jazz, Third in Command and Head of the Special Operations Division.”

A blue and green mini-bot that only came to about waist high, tentatively raised a hand. “What does the Special Operations do? Are they a combat team?”

Prowl studied the mini-bot before answering, aware of Jazz doing the same. “Special Ops is an elite division, composed of only the best. They specialize in the nastier bits of war. Going behind enemy lines, infiltrating a base, acquiring information for my team to work with, not to mention demolitions and sabo-”

He paused and took a step closer to the mechs infront of him before leaning in as if he was going to divulge a secret. “Sabotage.” Prowl whispered the word, knowing even so that Jazz's sensitive audios would pick it up.

Jazz's visor flashed wildly and he jerked hard before beginning to dance and jump randomly around the room. His vocalizer crackled as he laughed maniacally in between screeching out the word Sabotage!. The new recruits drew back, the TIC's abnormal behavior startling them. They cowered further when the mech pulled out duel blasters and began firing haphazardly around the room. Sideswipe laughed, then instantly muted it as a blast hit the wall next to his helm.

Another shot barely missed the mini-bot that was now shrieking in fear. Prowl glanced at Ironhide, and the weapons master nodded before moving closer to the group. Prowl turned back to Jazz and as the mech danced past, he grabbed a firm hold on his arm. He murmured something softly to Jazz and the mech stopped moving instantly.

“He is rather unstable, isn't he?” A recruit spoke up.

Jazz stiffened and would have launched himself into another bout of craziness if it hadn't been for Prowls firm grip on his arm. His processor blanked out for a moment at Prowls next action though. The mech had placed a hand on his back and drew it down, slowly, comfortingly.

“Oh, we know how to handle him. He is only truly dangerous to the decepticons.”

Jazz had to fight to remember their game, and he gave a jerk away from that tantalizing touch. What happened next, startled him so much he wouldn’t have been able to react if Megatron himself had suddenly entered the room.

Prowl tugged Jazz close against his chassis and raised a hand to trail a finger softly over the mechs audial horn. Jazz melted into the contact, pressing into the touch and leaning against Prowl. His engine revved hard as Prowl gave a low chuckle.

The new recruits shifted uneasily, beginning to wonder just what type of mechs ran the autobot army. The little mini-bot looked more terrified then the others, his optics glued to the Second and Third in Command.

“What does he do to decep-” The mini-bot paused as Jazz turned his helm to look at him, then continued, changing what he was saying at the last moment, “-them.” He finished lamely.

Sideswipe pushed away from where he had been leaning against the wall and made his way towards the group, causing those that recognized him to shift their gazes from their unstable commander to him then back again.

“He eats their sparks for breakfast and then melts their frames down to be used for furniture.” Sideswipe grinned as nearly as maniacally as Jazz had earlier.

The mini-bot freaked, backing up until he collided with Ironhide. He began babbling, nearly rivaling Bluestreak.

“They made me do it! Megatron said he would kill me if I didn't! Please don't eat my spark! Ill tell you everything I know! Ill even switch sides!”

Ironhide gave a rumbling laugh, causing the mini-bot to cower and back away from him. The red mech reached out and caught the mini-bot, quickly restraining him with stasis-cuffs. As he was led to the exit, the mini-bots shaking slowly eased. He was obviously very happy to be leaving the crazed autobot command staff behind.

Prowl shifted away from his contact with Jazz's frame and finished up the meeting as if nothing had happened. Handing out instructions for the coming orns, the two mechs watched as the remaining recruits exited the room, chatting excitedly. As the last one passed through the door, Sideswipe moved forward to face his commanders with a grin.

“You do realize you just helped us win the bet?” Jazz couldn’t help pointing out.

Sideswipe shrugged. “One always expects to lose when betting against the two of you.”

Prowl tilted his helm, studying the red twin. “You made the bet expecting to lose? That seems rather illogical.”

“Logic had nothing to do with it. I was bored, you needed a solution to finding the infiltrator, and it was fun” Sideswipe grinned and rocked back on his heels. “You have my word, no annoying the officers, no pranks and no skirting my work shifts for the period of a half vorn. I cannot however speak for my brother.”

Prowl nodded. “Understood.”

Sideswipe left with a jaunty wave, saying something about terrorizing his twin. Neither officer bore a smidgen of envy for Sunstreaker, though they might have felt a bit of pity.

Jazz stood still, his optics dimmed as he shifted through his memory of the last few minutes. Prowl had been his friend for vorns, and while he might have entertained some fantasies about the mech, he had never seen a sign that the mech might have been interested in more. Now, Jazz was slightly off balance as he wondered if what had happened was real, or if Prowl had faked it in order to win the bet. He snapped out of his reverie as Prowl moved towards the door to the now empty training room.

“Hey Prowl, wait up.”

Prowl stopped and turned slightly to face him, one doorwing tilted slightly to the side and an optic ridge raised in question.

“You won the bet.” Jazz crossed the distance between them quickly, watching as the tactician turned to face him fully. “Name the one thing you want from me.”

Prowl studied the saboteurs face for a moment before allowing a small smile to tilt the corners of his lips. “Maybe there's nothing more I want.”

“Nothing?” Jazz moved closer until his chassis was pressing gently against Prowls. “Are you sure about that?” He lowered his voice to a purr, leaving no doubt what his next words meant. “It could be explosive.”

“As Wheeljack has demonstrated on multiple occasions, explosions leave a lot of damage behind.”

Jazz pressed himself closer, running his hands up over Prowls chest to curl about his neck. “Don't think you could handle me?”

Prowl leaned in, bringing his lips within an inch of Jazz's. “I know I could handle you. But could you handle me?”

Jazz's engine revved and he whimpered softly at the brush of air from Prowl that ghosted over his lips. With a wicked grin, Prowl pulled away and headed towards the door. Leaving Jazz frozen where he was, staring after the mech with his processor wrapped in a fog of lust. Prowl had just stepped through the door when Jazz snapped out of it and bolted after the tactician.

After all, he really did love explosions. The more dangerous, the better.


End file.
